I’ve done some dumb things in my writing career. Even dumber than choosing writing as a career. I'm not proud of my mistakes, but they say admitting to them is a sign of integrity and humility. Or in my case, a sign that I’ve been drinking.

So, before I go pour my third bourbon of the morning and continue working on my next novel, here are five of the dumbest things I’ve done as an author:

5) I wrote my first novel for myself rather than for the reader. A teacher once told me writing is about self-expression and creativity, not about having lots of people read what you’ve written. And I was stupid enough to believe him.

This helps to explain why I opted to write my first novel (Notes on an Orange Burial) about an unpublished poet. It’s also why 99.99 percent of you have never heard of it. (Still, it was a big hit with some people—namely my parents, and three librarians in England.) It’s quirky and literary and has some funny scenes derived from experiences I had in my twenties, so I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s a bad book.

But you would.

4) I didn’t focus on the marketing-side of publishing until my third novel. This may seem the same as #5 above, but it’s not. It’s worse. After all, when you write a bad book and fail to market it properly, you’re doing yourself and the world a favor. But when you write a good book and fail to market it properly, you miss big opportunities to attract readers and meet Oprah.

Today, many consider my second novel—The Exit Man—my best (or at least my most enjoyable) book to date. However, it didn’t make much of a splash when it first came out because I hadn’t taken the time to learn the ins and outs of publicity, promotion and platform-building. It wasn’t until a TV producer tripped over a copy (while looking at bigger and better-promoted books) months later that The Exit Man started to pick up a little steam, and even then I failed to do a lot of what I should have done from a marketing standpoint.

Which leads directly to my next big mistake. …

3) I assumed getting optioned by HBO meant I’d hit the big-time. See that guy over there, the one strutting around like he owns the place? That’s me at the 2015 Writers’ League of Texas conference in Austin. The Exit Man had recently been optioned by HBO for development into a TV series, but I went to the conference anyway despite having nothing left to prove or to learn as an author. [Feel free to pause here and gag. I just did.] I skipped most of the sessions at the conference but spent plenty of time at the cocktail reception, where I mentioned my option deal to all the other attendees and held my hand out for them to kiss. (I'm exaggerating of course—both of my hands had drinks in them and thus weren't available to be kissed.)

And see that guy over there, the one lounging poolside at the trendy Mondrian hotel on Sunset Boulevard reading a copy of his own novel? That’s me the day after flying out to LA to take the producer (who got me the HBO option) out for dinner to show my appreciation—but really just to show off.

Oh, and see this guy over here, the one muttering curse words while cancelling his HBO Now subscription out of spite? That’s me in 2016 after hearing HBO decided not to renew its option of The Exit Man.

2) I waited too long to start forming alliances with other authors. No man is an island, but I used to think good authors were. I had it that, to be successful, I needed to spend as much time as possible holed up in a small, quiet room and just let my imagination and words run wild. I stayed away from writing workshops and critique groups. (“I had enough of that in college,” I’d tell myself.) I wasn’t active in writing organizations or communities. And, worst of all, I viewed other authors in my genre as the competition rather than as brothers and sisters with whom I shared a rare and wondrous disease.

It wasn’t until relatively recently that I realized isolation, while good for writing, is awful for a writing career. For the latter, you need to connect with and share ideas with like-minded—and even unlike-minded—authors. Doing so not only keeps you almost sane in a maddening field, but also provides you with invaluable feedback and advice to better your craft. And, if you join forces with “the competition,” it can open the door to a whole new world of readers who might have otherwise never heard of you or your disease. (NOTE: I recently teamed up with author RD Ronald to create a unique new website for readers and fellow writers of transgressive fiction. If you like novels and short stories about good people doing bad things—or bad people doing good things—you’re going to LOVE the site. I’ll be announcing its official launch via my blog soon. Stay tuned!)

And now, for the absolute dumbest thing I've done as an author ...

1) I put my characters ahead of my family and friends. I’ve touched on this in previous posts, mostly in a joking manner to downplay my fiction addiction and lessen my shame. But the truth is, I have put my characters ahead of my family and friends in the past.

Actually, the real truth is … I still do.

That “disease” I hinted at in #2 above, it’s not always fun. For anyone. And particularly not for my wife Miranda and my daughter Leah, whom I’ve shooed away from my writing space countless times in order to give all my care and attention to imaginary people instead. In fact, I’ve gotten so good at shooing, I rarely even have to anymore. Miranda and Leah have learned to keep their distance whenever my office door’s closed. Come to think of it, they’ve started doing so even when the door’s open and the writing day’s done. Go figure.

I’ve apologized multiple times to them, as well as to my parents and brother and the small handful of friends I somehow still have. I’ve promised each that I’d make more time for them and be more attentive and present whenever we’re together. They can tell by the look in my eyes and the sound of my voice that these apologies and promises are sincere. And they all want to believe me, but deep down they suspect something.

People familiar with my books assume I must be at least a little insane. But the truth is, my wife's the crazy one.

After all, she (Miranda) has chosen to spend her life and share a dwelling with a man who writes entire novels about things like party supply storeowners who dabble in euthanasia, terminally ill serial killers looking to make their city safer before they die, and fake pedophiles who schmooze with child sex traffickers to put them away.

I’m telling you, this lady is nuts.

Still, folks always want to know what it’s like for “poor” Miranda to live with me, the “crazy” writer. In fact, many of them ask her that question right in front of me, which I find just plain rude.

Nevertheless, I like to give the people what they want—provided what they want is not for me to put down my drink or behave myself. So, in an effort to appease all my imaginary fans, I’ve opted to give Miranda the keys to my blog for today’s post, which features several questions people and the police commonly ask Miranda, followed by Miranda’s (mostly) unedited responses.

What is it like being married to an author of dark, disturbing fiction?

It’s fun! And absurd. And intriguing! And unnerving. Just like Greg’s books! And marriage.

I knew a long time ago that I didn’t want to marry one of those doctor/lawyer types—the type who are married to their job and whom you never see again after the wedding. Because both Greg and I work from home, I often get to bump into him in the kitchen whenever he takes a break from killing a character in his office. I also get to take afternoon walks with him and hear about the cleanest murder methods and how to get away with them. Sometimes I’ll walk into his office to sneak a few kisses while he’s busy putting his protagonist through living hell. Greg absolutely hates it when I do that and usually tells me to get out. I'm the luckiest girl in the world.

While reading any of Greg’s books, have you ever become concerned over the fact you sleep in the same bed with this guy? (Assuming you haven’t already opted for separate rooms.)

Absolutely. I tell all my friends and family that if I were to die, Greg did it. But I can take comfort in the fact that my death will be epic. A story to be passed down for generations. And I will haunt Greg forever.

Which of Greg’s characters is your favorite, and why? Which is your least favorite?

It’s so hard to pick a favorite. I think if I had to choose, I’d have to go with Eli Edelmann, as The Exit Man is still my favorite novel. No, wait, Zero Slade from In Wolves’ Clothing, because he’s a hero—albeit a seriously flawed one—with such a big heart. No, wait, Fynn, who’s Zero’s boss. She’s an intriguing sideline character I want to know more about … and maybe want to be just like when I grow up.

Does Greg usually pass his novel ideas by you before starting to write the book? Does he allow you to read his works-in-progress?

I wish. One of my favorite things to do with Greg is brainstorm novel ideas and have him read me sneak-peeks of his works-in-progress. But these occasions are rare. For some reason he views my “feedback” as an act of aggression. Writers—they're sooo sensitive.

What is Greg’s most peculiar habit as a writer?

Oh my, where do I start? First off, Greg writes his books chronologically from beginning to end. This is a sure sign of a psychopath. Also, writing is never a painful, agonizing process for him—he never gets stuck or suffers from writer’s block. Instead he bounces out of bed every morning and writes joyfully about horrific topics for hours at a time. There is something very wrong with him.

Do you ever fear Greg will write a memoir and share way too much about your life together? Do events/situations from your marriage ever show up in his novels?

Not really. I don’t believe Greg would ever steer away from writing fiction—regardless of what our tax returns tell him. Certainly there are hints of our married life sprinkled throughout his books, but as long as he continues writing novels, I can deny everything.

If Greg weren’t a writer, what would you say would be the best profession for him?

If Greg had a real job, I imagine it would be something in the medical profession. Or perhaps he’d be a crime-scene investigator. Or a hitman. In case you haven’t noticed it in his books, Greg has a bit of a fascination with sickness and death. Who knows, maybe he’d even become a real-life Exit Man, though I don’t think I was supposed to say that out loud.

What book would you most want Greg to write next?

I must say I’m pretty intrigued by Greg’s next book, which features a strong female protagonist. It’s a mother-daughter tale of two badass women who commit a crime to intentionally land them in jail... mainly for the free rent and healthcare. There’s just one problem—they don’t caught. Instead they get rich. And that’s when the real problems begin.

Now, that all said, we just returned from an Alaskan cruise and I’ve been trying to convince Greg that his next book needs to be set on a cruise ship. He’s thinking about it—or so he says to get me to leave him alone to write.

For those of you who prefer (or need) to consume literature through your ears rather than your eyes, I have some exciting news: My novel In Wolves’ Clothing is now available as an audiobook!

And it’s a pretty good one at that, thanks to the amazing narration by Matthew J. Williamson. Matthew is an extremely talented screen, stage and voice actor (and producer) who has appeared on such hit shows as Boston Legal, Will & Grace, West Wing, ER, and The O.C., to name just a few. The second I heard Matthew’s audio audition for In Wolves' Clothing, I knew I’d found my narrator. And I’m telling you, few things are as exciting—or as surreal—as hearing for the first time the voice of a character you spent a year creating and living with in your head. It’s like having an imaginary friend speak to you out loud, but even better because the rest of the world can hear him too and thus doesn’t think you’re any crazier than you already are.

Matthew did a great job not only with my protagonist but with all the other characters in the book, as well. Honestly, I don’t know how he or any other audiobook narrator does what they do. All those lines. All those characters with different accents and ages and genders. All the different inflections and moods and tones. Me? I can’t read aloud even a single page let alone an entire novel without stumbling multiple times or placing the wrong emphASis on a wrong syllABle.

But don’t just take my word on Matthew’s mad skills—go check out the In Wolves’ Clothing audiobook on Audible and listen for yourself! (NOTE: The sample clip contains sensitive subject matter that may not be suitable for some audiences.)

Thanks for stopping by, and (hopefully) for giving IWC a read with your ears!

The 'In Wolves' Clothing' audiobook will also be available on Amazon and iTunes within the next couple of days.

Ah, the sheer brutality and hilarity of the one-star book review. For some authors, a one-star review on Amazon is enough to send them into a downward emotional spiral from which they never recover. For more self-assured and experienced authors, a hateful review is a sign they’ve arrived, a cause for celebration, a time for merriment and laughter to numb the pain they’re hiding.

They say a one-star book review says much more about the reviewer than about the actual book—especially if the book is, by wide consensus, good or at least decent. When a reader flings a single star at a novel that averages four, it generally indicates the reader just got dumped by a lover or is angry about a high veterinarian bill or is trying to quit smoking. Sometimes, a one-star-giver is simply an Internet troll incapable of elaborating on the teribullness of the buuk they found so unreedabull. The meanest and thus most entertaining one-star reviews typically are those posted by Internet trolls going through nicotine withdrawal while dealing with a recent break-up and two Rottweilers with hip dysplasia.

Occasionally, however, a one-star review of a “good” book is spot-on—delivered by a subversive literary genius who refuses to conform to mass opinion and instead cogently points out how and why the book in question is not only highly overrated but complete drivel. These reviewers are to be respected and revered … unless you’re the author of the book in question, or a member of same book club as the reviewer.

Regardless of the accuracy of or motivations behind one-star book reviews, they are an absolute joy to read. And since we can all use a little more joy in our lives, today I’d like to share the most scathing, sardonic and absurd reviews of some of literature’s most renowned classics. (To enhance your reading pleasure, I’ve kept all the reviewers’ typos intact.) Enjoy! And never forget the powerful words of one of the most celebrated poets of our time: “The haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate.”—Taylor Swift

Moby Dick by Herman Melville

He just rambles on and on about the color of white, the lamp, a piece of wood, oh, and every freakin' whale that there could possibly be in the world. If this was just a novel about them on the boat and going out to sea and trying to catch the "leviathan" then I could understand. Colonoscopies are more pleasant that reading this book. I beg you, find another book to read. (Amazon review, Sept. 22, 2014)

Lord of the Fliesby William Golding

This book stunk. I believe that reality can have deeper meanings, but don't get to deep or you'll drown. The only time you can go that deep and not drown, is with drugs. I never thought Lord of the Flies would attract so many druggies. (Amazon review, May 21, 1998)

Ulyssesby James Joyce

This is a tough book to read unless you understand several languages and are on LSD. I may have thirty or forty more years to live so maybe I'll get through it. (Amazon review, Feb. 9, 2014)

Pride and Prejudiceby Jane Austen

BORING. Pride and Prejudice is a very tiresome book. Much dialogue and very little action. Too much love and not enough Jesus. (Amazon review, Jan. 31, 2018)

Great Expectationsby Charles Dickens

HORRID!!! This book was literally the worst thing that’s happened in my whole entire life. (Amazon review, Nov. 21, 2008)

Fahrenheit 451by Ray Bradbury

Heyyyy I had to read this book for school and it was the worst thing I ever read. A worthless good for nothing piece of junk! Actually it is good for something. I took this book with me to rifle practice and i shot at this instead of the target. I got busted but hey it was worth it. Mail me if you want a picture of my shooting. (Amazon review, Aug. 24, 1998)

Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

Well, i had to read this book for english class, so i didn't really enjoy it at all, however it is a good book. (Amazon review, Aug. 30, 2010)

Anna Kareninaby Leo Tolstoy

How can anybody like this book? Whoever said this is the best classic ever written must be truly brain-dead. What could be enjoyable about a book that primarily consists of a guide on:

a) how to cut grass,

b) how to hunt bear, and

c) how to abandon your own kid for a gigolo.

If I wanted all that stuff I would have read Farmers Almanac. (Amazon review, date unknown)

Othelloby William Shakespeare

Me doth not thinkift I understandifth this tale. Shakespeare was a real cool person for his time. Unfortunately, his plays are not a real cool thing to read for my time. It is English and I speak English. I just don't happen to speak Old English. Which is really ironic because I am old and speaking English. If you read slowly and put your thinking cap on, you will get the gist of what the story is about. Or! You can just purchase Cliff notes, etc. This story is exciting and full of action...........I think? (Amazon review, Dec. 10, 2012. NOTE: This customer actually gave the book a two-star—not a one-star—review, but I felt it was just too good to not include it here.)

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

This book won the NOBEL Prize? I just can't help it, I need to write another review. This book should be placed in Solitary Confinement for 100 years. This is to save both time and trees used in printing of this book. Do not even dare buy this book even from a 2nd hand bookstore. Believe me, do not waste your money. (Amazon reviews, Feb. 5, 2004)

Gravity’s Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon

A hateful experience, 0 stars if that was allowed. After reading over one hundred fifty pages, all I could believe was the story was set during WWII, but I wasn’t sure. The location was England, but I wasn’t sure. I finally threw it against a wall in disgust. I’ve been told the nominating committee (made up mostly of book reviewers) nominated this for the Pulitzer Prize as best fiction. The awards committee (mostly book editors) rejected it as an unreadable piece of crap. I agree with the editors. (Amazon review, Feb. 11, 1999)

The Great Gatsbyby F. Scott Fitzgerald

Boring start, boring end, too many unnecessary things, too many whores. You’d have to be a person who loves Romeo and Juliet to like this book. (Amazon review, March 12, 2018)

Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut

O.K., I read it, but I literally have no idea what this book is about. And I’m not reading it again to find out either. Apparently, people like almost anything in life, which is really a sad commentary on the human condition. (Amazon review, July 31, 2000)

Feel free to share some of your favorite one-star book reviews in the comments section below. Also, have you ever written a one-star review of a book? If so, was the book one of mine? If so, what’s your address?

Looks like I may be going to jail. With any luck, it will happen very soon. My sentence? Sentences.

Allow me to explain.

A few weeks ago, an idea tapped me on the shoulder and then refused to shut up. It just kept repeating itself over and over: “Teach creative writing in prison. Teach creative writing in prison.” I was all, “Who, me?” And the idea was all, “YES, you—do you see anyone else around here you idiot?”

While I didn’t much appreciate the idea’s attitude, I admired its gumption, its grit, its determination. “Ya got moxie, kid,” I told the idea. The idea shushed me and said, “I’m not here to make friends. Now get to work.”

I listened.

The next day I came up with a name—The “Write to Be Free” Project—and then researched best practices in teaching creative writing to incarcerated individuals. (One expert recommends to “always be a little afraid.” I think I can manage that.) A few days later I reached out to the Texas Department of Criminal Justice (TDCJ) to explore the feasibility of the whole “Write to Be Free” thing. The TDCJ put me in touch with Dr. Latreace Craig of The Windham School, a non-geographical school that provides educational services to offenders in the custody of the State of Texas. During my phone call with Dr. Craig, she told me she loved the idea—and encouraged me to go for it.

Following her instructions, I filled out a volunteer application and mailed it to the Huntsville address that was provided. Yes, that Huntsville—the city whose prison houses the State of Texas’ execution chamber … the most active execution chamber in the country. No, I won't be teaching creative writing at the Huntsville unit. That wouldn’t be practical, as it’s too far a drive from Austin. (Who are you calling scared? I’m not scared. YOU’RE scared.) It’s more likely I’ll be assigned to a unit like Travis State Jail (in Austin) or Dominguez State Jail (in San Antonio).

But first, my application has to be accepted. That should be easy-peasy. Also, I have to pass a background check. I don’t foresee any problems there, either. I mean, what correctional facility wouldn’t want its inmates learning from an author whose last three novels centered, respectively, around mercy killing, serial killing and sex trafficking? I’m practically a shoo-in. Once I pass the background check, I merely need to complete a mandatory training program designed to increase my chances of success as a volunteer. Or, more to the point, to minimize my chances of getting shanked.

I’m very excited about what hopefully lies ahead. That’s why I’m here blogging about The “Write to Be Free” Project before everything (or anything, really) has been finalized. But excitement isn’t the only reason for this premature post. I feel that, by declaring my proposed plan publicly, I’m more likely to bust my butt to make it happen. To not give up after encountering obstacles or resistance. To hold myself to account.

Good ideas and noble intentions don’t mean squat without execution. (Okay, perhaps “execution” wasn’t the best term to use here, considering the context.) People always say, “It’s the thought that counts.” Well, not in this case. In this case, what counts is action. What counts is commitment. What counts is stopping at nothing until something gets going. Because the something I’m getting going stands to impact a group of people in ways they’ve yet to imagine. A group of people who, because of their circumstances, may have forgotten how to imagine.

I’ve never been incarcerated, but I’m friends with several people who have. A couple of these people have written novels—damn good ones. And neither of them were writers when they first entered prison.

Point is, when you lose the right to be free, you can still write to be free.

We all make mistakes. Some folks make big ones—big enough to end up in an institution that can strip them of their identity, their humanity. These are the people I'm eager to work with. These are the people with stories and poems that can cut to the bone. These are the people who can remind us—and themselves—what it means to be alive.

They don’t have social media or text messages or online shopping to distract them. They don’t have endless blue skies or Sunday picnics or carefree walks in the park to enjoy. What they have are strongly reinforced ceilings, floors, walls and bars. What they have is their own mind playing an endless loop of what they did wrong.

All I want is a chance to help them discover what they can do. Write.

This is not a one-and-done type of post. I promise to share any progress made on The “Write to Be Free” Project here on this very blog. And who knows—maybe I'll even get to share a few powerful pieces written by some of the incarcerated individuals I (hopefully) get the honor and privilege to work with.